


Cosmically Interconnected

by Obsessivecompulsivereadr



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex is an unreliable narrator again, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, references to self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 12:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18992743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsessivecompulsivereadr/pseuds/Obsessivecompulsivereadr
Summary: Alex shrugged away the pain in his shoulder, but even that small movement seemed to drag everything out of him.  He was withdrawn at the best of times, but ever since Michael had collapsed, it seemed as if everything hurt.  Even when panic clawed at him at the possibility of Michael not recovering, he couldn’t move.  He could only lie there and wish he’d been stronger.  Wish he’d been able to help in a way that hadn’t caused this.  Going over it in his mind solved nothing. He couldn’t make himself eat anything, and sleep was an impossibility.  He couldn’t even just be.





	Cosmically Interconnected

**Author's Note:**

> There is some handwaving at alien science stuff and at alien biology.
> 
> Also, every single person in Roswell needs a therapist.

Alex hadn’t slept. 

He’d made use of one of the borrowed cots during the night but only to take the weight off his leg.  According to Liz, Michael and Max had set them up in the cave to keep a 24-hour eye on Isobel when she was injured.  And, apparently, to also guard Noah at some point before all hell had broken loose in Roswell.  Alex didn’t know the details, but he did know that Michael, Kyle, and Liz had been involved. 

Alex felt completely out of the loop, but he couldn’t expect anything different when his father was one of the humans Michael and his siblings had a right to be afraid of. 

The cot brought back some memories from his service days, memories that weren’t exactly good ones, but it was better than standing, and at least he was closer to Michael, who was in one of the pods. 

To stabilize him, Liz had said.

To keep him safe from himself, Isobel had added. 

Michael had pushed himself too far.  He had done something that nobody could explain to him because _they_ didn’t know themselves.  Something that had overtaxed his body and mind. 

He’d been bleeding from his nose, ears, and his mouth… and the bleeding _wouldn’t stop_ , and Alex’s heart had almost come to a standstill at the sight of Michael collapsing. 

Alex had caught him as he fell… _but then Alex failed._  

 _Failed to protect him again_. 

He wondered every night why someone hadn’t asked him to leave.  Why Max and Isobel hadn’t shoved him back towards his vehicle and told him to go on the first night he’d tried to stay.  

What was the point of him being here if he couldn’t keep it together long enough to help? 

Maybe they’d known they couldn’t force him.  Alex couldn’t even seem to force himself, couldn’t pry himself away, until it was time to change shifts.

And maybe they were like him.  Just too tired of fighting.  Too tired of nothing ever going right for any of them.  Tired of not feeling safe enough. 

Isobel walked into the cave and moved between him and Michael’s pod.  The bright light behind her turned her into a silhouette in front of him.

He lifted his head. 

“Kyle and Liz think they have a solution,” she said.  “They’re coming.  Maria is, too.”

It was good that they finally had an idea because they’d been working on it for weeks.  Max had tried to heal him, but he’d failed.  Everyone was exhausted from the exertion, and Isobel thought that maybe something in Michael was preventing Max’s healing from working.  This would probably be the eighth or ninth version that Liz and Kyle had come up with, and all the others had failed, forcing them to put Michael back into the pod over and over again. 

Maria came to the cave in the mornings.  She’d had an eye-opening introduction to all things alien, and not even Liz knew how she was really handling it.  She had to keep the Wild Pony going at night, since it was her only income, so Alex had taken the night shift, giving the others time to sleep. 

He didn’t sleep anyway, so it seemed like the perfect solution to him.  He and Maria had passed each other a few times, without speaking.  She seemed to want to talk, but Alex didn’t have the energy. 

Alex sat up and massaged the kink in his bad thigh.  He'd kept his prosthetic on overnight, and his leg was of the unforgiving sort whenever what happened.  He stood and gathered his jacket, glanced between the pod and Isobel, and then he turned towards the cave entrance.  If Michael was awake and out of the pod, he’d be cursing Alex again for walking away.

He only got a few steps before Isobel asked, “Where are you going?”

Alex shrugged away the pain in his shoulder, but even that small movement seemed to drag everything out of him.  He was withdrawn at the best of times, but ever since Michael had collapsed, it seemed as if everything hurt.  Even when panic clawed at him at the possibility of Michael not recovering, he couldn’t move.  He could only lie there and wish he’d been stronger.  Wish he’d been able to help in a way that hadn’t caused this.  Going over it in his mind solved nothing. 

He couldn’t make himself eat anything, and sleep was an impossibility.  He couldn’t even just _be_. 

Alex turned, “Maria is coming.”

Isobel started to object but he held a hand up.  “Don’t think I haven’t laid there and considered every argument you could make.  Liz makes them, too.  Yes, maybe he does need me.  Maybe he wouldn’t have come out of this if I hadn’t shown up.  Maybe he would have.  But maybe he wouldn’t have even been _in the situation_ without me either.”

“Alex.” Isobel’s voice was kind. 

“Maybe it was selfish, but I had to stay.  But he doesn’t want me around him.  He wants Maria.  I have to find a way to be okay with that, and I’m trying to respect what he wants.”

“I don’t even think _Michael_ knows what he wants,” she snapped.  “How could you?”

Alex didn’t have an answer.  “I’m heading for my truck, but if this version doesn’t work either, I’ll come back and stay the rest of the night.”

Leaving Michael every day hurt more than he had ever imagined it would.  He should have been used to it, but the times he’d left him before, Michael had had choice words to share before Alex walked away.  Now, Michael’s voice was silent each time. 

The unbearable loneliness crept up on him every night as he settled in to watch over Michael.  The loneliness kept him awake and reminded him of everything he had lost, and panic seized him every morning when he walked out of that cave, as he faced that next day of being alone.  

Isobel looked at him with too much cleverness in her eyes.  “He's your person.”

Alex didn’t respond. 

Isobel walked closer to him.  “Did it ever occur to you that you’re his, too.”

“No.  You are.” Alex said softly and smiled sadly.  “Michael said Max is yours.  But you are Michael’s.  There is nothing he won’t do for you.” 

Alex found an distinctive sadness in that dynamic, but he wouldn’t tell her that.  Max had Isobel.  Isobel had Max… and Michael.  And then there was Michael.  Left on the outside and somehow out of tune with the twins and their synergy.   

He sighed, “I’m not… I’ve never been _anybody’s_ person.”

He’d never believed in it before, that there would be someone out in the world that he would do anything for, do anything to protect.  It seemed kind of fitting that the one who meant that to him would be someone who wouldn’t feel the same about Alex.  He supposed he wasn’t the kind of person who got that lucky.  Alex never had _anybody_. 

Maybe Alex and Isobel were more alike than either of them knew.  Destined to love someone who hadn’t chosen either of them in the end.  But where Alex had done things that had forced Michael’s hand, Isobel was innocent.  She hadn’t deserved anything that Noah put her through.

“You’re wrong,” Isobel said with determination.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m right or wrong.  I’m not supposed to be here.  She’s the one he wants to see when he wakes up.  I’m not.”  Alex was tired of making this same argument with both Isobel and Liz. 

“He loves you.”

Alex shrugged because he didn’t doubt that at all.  It just didn’t matter anymore.  It didn’t matter what other people said Michael wanted.  Michael wanted Maria, and he’d made that glaringly obvious. 

“Maybe.  But he doesn’t _want_ to.”  He turned again and headed out to his truck.  He climbed inside and turned on the radio to kill the silence.

He would wait. 

Michael would be fine.  Liz and Kyle would do anything to help.  Max would make sure of it now that he’d recovered from the resurrection.  If they could get Michael stable, then Max would probably try again.

Michael and Maria would get through this, would get past the fact that it had taken Alex's touch to pull him out of the telekinetic spiral that had pushed him to nearly rip apart his own mind with its power. 

It only made sense to Alex.  He was primarily responsible for the disconnect within Michael, so of course he was able to help repair it.  Michael being his person meant nothing.

All that did was remind him that Alex was to blame for a lot of things that had destroyed Michael.

If Michael was Alex’s person, then Michael was the unluckiest man on Earth.

 

 

Alex must have dozed off in the truck because he jolted awake at the sound of the passenger side door opening.  He cut the engine, flipped off the lights, and gestured for Maria to get in.

She settled in across from him and stared out the windshield.  “He’s awake.  The injection Liz gave him worked.  Then Max healed him.  But he’s weak.  They’re going to take him to Isobel’s.”   

Alex nodded, not really caring if she could see it or not.  “That’s good.”  He cleared his throat to force away the sudden hoarseness, and then he leaned his head back against the seat.    

The relief sat deep in his chest, and he closed his eyes.  

Michael would be okay. 

Max had healed him, so Alex could stop this never-ending spiral of worry that did nothing to help Michael but did _everything_ to tear Alex up inside. 

“I am not going to say I didn’t know because, obviously, I did.  But I didn’t _realize_ ,” Maria said softly. 

“Realize what?” Alex asked, forcing himself to breathe to stave off the dread he felt from having a conversation he’d never wanted to have.

“How much he means to you,” Maria answered as she turned to look at him.

“He’s _Guerin_ ,” Alex replied, as if that explained anything at all.  And while maybe it did for him, it didn’t do much for making other people understand what he couldn’t even understand himself.

Ten years ago, a broken and lonely Michael Guerin had climbed inside Alex’s heart and just… stayed there, without any intention of leaving.  Alex didn’t understand how he could feel _so much_ and _so hard_ for someone that he’d barely known before life had managed to destroy them. 

How could he explain that maybe he didn’t know what Michael liked for breakfast, but he did know which smile was meant _for only Alex_?  He knew how much that well-worn black hat meant to Michael, and he knew just when Michael was using that same hat as armor against a world he’d never felt welcome in.  How could he explain that he somehow knew how lost Michael was even before he’d discovered that Michael had spent years on a strange planet… without ever having a home. 

He knew exactly how much Michael loved having Alex’s hands in his curls, and Michael knew how much Alex loved being _touched_.  Michael knew exactly when and how often touch had meant _pain_ to him, but how could Alex explain that not only did Michael get it, he also understood the kind of intimacy Alex needed… the kind that made Alex fall apart around him? 

It shouldn’t make sense.  He shouldn’t know these things about Michael.  There shouldn’t have been enough time for him to learn them.  But he had.  At least before he’d lost Michael.

“I care about him,” Maria said quietly.

“I know.”

“You just don’t think that’s enough.”  It wasn’t a question.  She looked like she wanted to say more, but she stayed quiet.

That was never the problem.  The fact was that Alex could see why Maria could be good for Michael.  She was sweet and loving, and she didn’t come complete with baggage heavy enough to drag both of them down.  Maria was a lot of things Alex _wasn’t_. 

But most of all, she wasn’t hard to love.  Like Alex was.

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” 

“Yes, it does.”

But at the same time, it didn’t.  Alex had accepted a long time ago that nothing he wanted mattered.  Jesse Manes had made sure that, and out of all the lessons he’d learned as a child, the most important one had been that. 

Alex didn’t matter.

It hadn’t mattered that Alex had ached to be loved.  Or that Alex was lonely because of an absent mother, brothers who didn’t care, and a father who hated him.  Or that Alex had wanted a completely different life for himself. 

He didn’t get to have any of that, and he never would. 

The problem was that Alex felt powerful sometimes.  He started to believe that maybe he would get to have something for himself, have someone in his life who would care about him and just _never stop_.   

Then reality always hit like a crash landing. 

“I assumed that what you had was one-sided.  Or something just in the past.  He said it was over.” Maria clasped at the necklace that she constantly wore. 

The one that had clued him in to her relationship with Michael. 

“Please, don’t read me.  I can’t handle that tonight,” Alex rubbed at his thigh again.  The night was getting colder, and a dull ache had set up in his leg.  He’d been pushing it to stay at the cave every night, and eventually his leg was going to make him pay for that decision.

“I don’t know what to do here,” Maria admitted.  “I don’t know what I should have done.  Talked to you, maybe?”

That would have been worse than the awkwardness of their first conversation.  Alex wasn’t sure what he’d wanted out of it, when he’d visited Maria at the bar that night.  Part of him had wanted to beg her to stay away from Michael, because Alex wouldn’t have stood a chance against her.  She was everything light and sweet, and Alex was trauma and pain.  Of course, Michael would go to her.  Of course, _she_ would get to keep him because that’s how life worked for Alex.

“Would it have mattered what I said?”

“I don’t know.”  At least she was being honest with him about it.

Alex doubted it would have mattered because Maria had been Michael’s decision.   His choice. 

Michael hadn’t even told Alex _why._  

He hadn’t explained why he’d asked Alex to come talk only to not even try to have that conversation.   He’d never even sought Alex out to tell him that it was over between them. 

Alex had never felt so lonely as he’d had when he’d realized that Michael wasn’t going to show up.  Then he’d decided he probably deserved it because how many times had he hurt Michael?  Simply because he was afraid.  It wouldn’t be the first time he was punished for being afraid.

“It’s not over.  Is it?” Maria asked.

“It’s been ten years.  I doubt it will ever be over for me.”

How sad was he… that he’d spent the night at Michael’s side, when Michael _couldn’t_ even know he was there, only to fall apart and confess things to Michael’s _girlfriend_?  Things that, had Alex slept long enough and carried enough presence of mind, he would have kept to himself.

“Michael just gets under your skin,” Maria said.

“Yeah.” 

The agreement was an understatement.  But Alex knew that Michael had never _tried_ to get under anybody’s skin.  He was just trying to communicate in the way that was easiest for him.  He made big gestures and threw out pretty words that made Alex struggle to catch his breath.  His touch set Alex on fire.  Michael had been denied so much love throughout his life, that when he found a small slice of it, Michael was all in.  Even when he shouldn’t be because he would inevitably get hurt.  Michael wanted to be loved in a world that only ever seemed to want to hurt him. 

But deep down, Michael was the same scared kid who’d never felt like this world had a place for him. 

Alex understood that more than anyone.

 “I didn’t even know he was bisexual,” Maria said hollowly.  “I had _no clue_ he was into men.”

“I know.” 

“I don’t think he would have told me anything about it if I hadn’t asked about you.”

It’s not that Michael had ever attempted to hide it, but he had a reputation for working his way through the women at the Wild Pony.  Alex had never even heard a rumor about him being with another guy, but then he wouldn’t.  He’d been away too long for information like that to be on his radar.

He wasn’t sure what Maria wanted with this conversation.  It wouldn’t really accomplish anything, and they needed to get to Isobel’s.  Or at least she did.  Alex should probably go home. 

He really wasn’t up for hearing details about any conversation they might have had about him.

Alex started the truck, “I’ll drive you to Isobel’s.  Looks like your ride left you.”

Maria nodded. 

They were silent for most of the drive, but as he pulled in, she placed one hand on his arm and the other on the handle of the door. 

“I just want to be happy.  I’m so tired of everything going wrong with the bar and with my mother.  I just want something good that’s just for _me_.”

Alex understood that.  He wanted the same thing.  But they couldn’t _both_ have it. 

Not if the road leading to that happiness was _Michael_.

Alex watched her as she exited the truck. 

He should probably say that she deserved it and that he wanted her to be happy, but for him, those things were both true and untrue at the same time.  He _did_ believe she deserved to be happy.  It couldn’t be easy for her to put her life on hold to take care of Mimi.  Maria was kind and beautiful, and she’d always felt out of place in this town too.  They’d connected as teenagers for a reason.

He just wished that what made her happy wasn’t _Michael_. 

But then he felt guilty for that as well, because Michael also deserved to be happy, and if he managed to find some measure of peace in the world _with Maria_ , then Alex should want to be okay with that. 

But he didn’t.  He just wanted Michael.  Because Alex _was_ selfish.

“Hey.  Will you let me know how he is?  Or ask Isobel to?”

Maria nodded her head and shut the door.  He watched her approach the front door, and then he backed out of the driveway and pulled away.

 

 

Alex called his therapist after waking up from a fourteen-hour _nap_ , to a dead phone and a series of text messages from multiple people.  He answered all of them with updates or apologies but the ones from Michael got a reply of, _I’m_ _safe_.   Alex didn’t know how to solve his ongoing problems, but he’d at least acknowledged that he wasn’t going to manage it on his own.

The PTSD had been diagnosed after losing his leg, but Alex knew the symptoms had been there before.  He had just as many flashbacks from Jesse Manes' handiwork as he did over his leg. 

The ones from the war were the worst, though, because the evil in those wasn’t his father or the explosion. 

The evil in those was Alex.

The depression symptoms had started after he enlisted.  But depression meant weakness to the Manes family, so he’d ignored it.  They had just gotten worse after losing his leg.  Losing his leg meant that he wasn’t good enough, and for a very long time he’d struggled with that.  Therapy was helping, but he was afraid that even if he shook the war from his psyche, Jesse Manes would never give up the destructive hold he had on Alex’s spirit. 

The medications helped sometimes, but Alex knew that if he stopped pushing himself so hard, every day, that he could heal more quickly.  Both physically and mentally.  But when he slowed down to take inventory of every symptom, all he felt was pain. 

Though it was a different sense of emptiness than he’d had before.  It distracted him and made him struggle to get up some days.  This felt worse than the morning he’d discovered he’d lost his leg.  He felt like he had twice the negative feelings and half the energy that he needed to get through just a normal day. 

The knock on his door almost went unnoticed.  But then the knock had turned into pounding.

Alex answered the door, and Michael fell through it, immediately wrapping Alex in his arms and unbalancing him.  Michael pulled him tight, and Alex couldn’t help but give in to it. 

It had been so long since he’d been held, and Michael holding him had always been Alex’s favorite thing.

“What?” 

Michael pulled back and looked at him, and Alex was shocked by how rough Michael looked.  His skin was pale, and he looked like he hadn’t slept either.  But there was a lightness in his eyes that Alex didn’t understand but was grateful to see.

Michael cupped Alex’s cheek.  “I could feel you.” 

Alex caught his breath.  “ _What_?”

“I could feel you from _inside_ the pod.  Isobel and Max said it was impossible because we aren’t supposed to hear or feel anything in there.  But I felt _you._ ” 

“ _How_?”

“This,” Michael opened his shirt, and on his chest was a single glimmering hand print. 

“What?” Alex whispered with confusion as he slid a hand over the mark, caught unprepared for the feeling of lightness that flowed through him.  He grinned at the emotions overwhelming him, and he looked up at Michael to see a look reminiscent of the one Michael had at the reunion.  The one so glad to see Alex that he would drink in every glance and sigh at Alex's touch.

“You did this,” Michael smiled.  “When I got caught up in that psychic… _black hole_ is the only way I know to describe it… you touched me and made this.” 

“But I thought that was a thing only you guys could do.”

“So, did I!  But you bonded with me right before I passed out, and I could feel you while you waited for me.”

“I don’t understand.” 

“I could feel your sadness, and you were feeling mine.  It’s like an echo effect.  I could tell you were hurting but I couldn’t get out and do anything to fix it.  I didn’t it figure it out in time because I thought that the handprint was Max’s.  But his handprint formed this morning.” 

“What do you mean an echo effect?” Alex stepped back and looked at him. 

“I was hurting before that stupid stunt I pulled.  I was trying to block things the way that Isobel can.  Telekinesis isn’t that much different than what Isobel can do.  And even Maria can do it to a certain extent.  So, I thought that if I tried, I could stop the hurting.  But it backfired, and I couldn’t get out.”

“Michael,” Alex cupped his cheek, sad at the thought of Michael in so much pain that he would try something untested like this.

“Until you.  As soon as you touched me, all I could focus on was you.  Your thoughts told me to stop hurting myself.  I could _hear_ them.  So, I did.”   

Alex was positive that Michael’s description of events was watered down and probably edited for content, but he’d ask for actual details later.

He sat on his couch and just looked up at him. 

He wasn’t sure what to say.  Or why Michael was here. 

But at least he understood now why his thoughts had been so dark lately.  He’d been feeling both his own pain and Michael’s. 

Michael kneeled at his feet.  “We’ve been spending so much time hurting each other that it’s become _hurting ourselves_ , too.  We _both_ need to stop.”

Alex nodded, “But why are you here?” 

“Because I love you.” 

Alex looked at him.  The warm golden-brown eyes were filled with love and _unease_ , like he was assuming the worst would happen but willing to come here anyway.

“I love you, too.  But Maria?”

“We broke up.  Once I realized that I was feeling your pain and that I caused some of that, I just… told her the truth.  That I’ve loved you since I was seventeen and that we could never be over.  It just isn’t possible.  Not for me.” 

Alex smiled and cupped his face, sliding his thumb over Michael’s bottom lip.  “Not for me, either.” 

“Touch the handprint, again,” Michael said.

Alex did, and while it didn’t take away all his pain, because trauma like his and Michael’s can’t be fixed in such a way, there was also a thread of happiness winding through all the painful memories.  He closed his eyes and saw Alex as Michael had always seen him.  Laughing at seventeen.  Looking up at Michael from his bed in the Airstream.  The memories they shared that were negative… Alex walking away, the hurtful words thrown at each other, and Michael’s side of the conversation where he gave Alex the power to destroy him… even those had an undercurrent that pulled at him. 

He opened his eyes to see Michael staring at him with a half-smile on his face.  Not the mocking smirk that was usually thrown his way whenever he got cocky about how much Alex wanted him.  But the soft, sweet look Michael had whenever they kissed.  Like kissing Alex was everything he’d ever wanted.

“It is,” Michael answered.  “And I want this to work.  It _has to work_ , because I can’t lose you again.  I won’t survive that.  And because of what I felt from you, you feel the same way about me.”

Alex laughed and nodded.  He hadn’t realized the emotional sharing went both ways. 

“That sounds codependent, if you ask me,” he moved his hand into Michael’s hair and tugged him in for a kiss.  

“Well, nobody actually asked you.  But I prefer the phrase cosmically interconnected,” Michael smirked as he pressed Alex into a horizontal position on the couch, but unlike most times they’d done this, Michael wasn’t trying to get Alex’s clothes off.  Michael was just holding him.

Alex smiled at him.  “That works for me.  But don’t get any ideas right now.  We have time, at most, for a short nap.  I have a therapy appointment in five hours, and it’s a three-hour drive.”

Michael, face buried in Alex’s neck, “Do you think I should get one of those?  A therapist?”

Alex put a hand to the back of his neck and brushed his fingers back and forth, the way Michael liked. 

“Yeah.  I do.  But only if you think it will help.  I don’t want you to do it for me.” 

“I think it might.  But I would be doing it for _us_.  So, I get to keep you, and you get to keep me.”

Alex kissed him.  “I love you.”  He touched the handprint on Michael’s chest again. 

Michael grinned against his lips, “I love you, too.   But you’re being codependent again.”

Alex snorted, “Go to sleep, Guerin.  You’re driving later.”

**Author's Note:**

> The symptoms Alex feels are worsened by the initial connection. There is no intent to suggest that one conversation "cures" depression symptoms and trauma. But for these two, it's a starting point to stop hurting each other.


End file.
